Returning from the Seven Seas
by tdkigha
Summary: A severe cold  and thick mist is sweeping in over Port Royal one late night, and something seems to be terribly wrong. Is something arriving together with the mist, a force darker and more dangerous than any mortal human can ever imagine? Sparrabeth
1. Mist

**READ THIS:** _Hey, this is a fanfic written for a fanvid - this means I don't a own bloody thing, not even this story! Too sad... ;) The vid is out on YouTube, made by the beautiful and talented Belle2714 (that's her nickname out on YT, so don't try to find her here). Please check it out! I've also - couldn't resist it, even if it's not my idea of a story - made a trailer for this long time ago. That's also out on YT, my nickname is the same as here: tdkigha. This is all thanks to miss Belle2714, as I think you've already discovered, and therefore I owe her for every annoying mail and disturbing nag I've made myself guilty of! Hopefully she'll be able to forgive me, but I wanted to tell you all that even if this story is already 18 pages long, it may not be finished...!! Tell me what you think of this first chapter, and maybe (if you liked it!) I'll give you some more. The story takes place before AWE, just so you know - might be quite confusing otherwise. Hope you'll like it!_

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It was a late night in the harbour of Port Royal. The soldiers down the port stood close to each other not to freeze in the ice-cold breeze. Mullroy and Murtogg, standing near the empty harbour, held on to their guns and pulled their hands underneath their arms.

"Yeez! It's cold as hell!" complained Mullroy.

"I thought it was hot in hell," said a very confused Murtogg.

Mullroy gave his mate an irritated look. "It's just something you say, stupid! He turned to the ocean again, tried to see anything through the thick mist. It was an unusual cold, dark night in the Caribbean tonight. No one of them could remember such a severe cold in their entire lives.

"Well, it would sound better if you said 'it's cold as the North-Pole' or something."

Mullroy sighed. "For Goodness sake! I don't care if it sounds right or not – it's something you say, alright! It's always the same way, I should ask for someone else to work with…"

"Shut up, Mull."

"Don't tell me to shut up, you bloody…"

Murtogg put his hand over Mullroy's talking, cold mouth and hushed him.

"Shut up and take a look over there!" Murtogg ordered and pointed at the mist. His eyes were staring at it, and Mullroy was forced to look that way as well. At first he couldn't see anything but the same thick mist and the arctic blue ocean.

"What the hell are you shouting for?" he wondered aloud, irritated.

Murtogg just took his arm and shook it to make his mate quiet. "Can't you see it?"

"What? What is it I should see?" Mullroy almost shouted.

"Over there!" Murtogg pointed once more. "The shadow."

"What sha…"

Suddenly Mullroy could see the big, dark shadow break through the fog. It was as if it blew the mist away, beneath itself and disappeared. They peered, trying to see the object from which the shadow came from.

And soon, in just a couple of seconds, the contours of a black ship appeared in front of them. It held a high speed, and both Mullroy and Murtogg were afraid that it wouldn't get the time to stop before it would crash into the port. They would have screamed had they not been frozen by the cold and the sight of the ship.

"Is it a… a…" Mullroy whispered.

"Ghost sh-ship?" Murtogg filled in.

"Yeah?"

Murtogg swallowed.

"I don't know."

To their relief the ship slowed down just a couple of metres away, and for a long time nothing happened. Murtogg had to move, so he took a small step towards the creature meanwhile Mullroy was protesting.

"What do you think you are doing?" he hissed like a scared child. "Come back, you fool!"

"I recognize it," Murtogg said with a low voice. From where he stood he could see the black sails, hull and mast. "Maybe not as dark, but… Something is really familiar…"

Mullroy started to wave with his arms.

"I have a bad feeling about this!" he shouted. "Don't go any further!"

"Wait…"

Before any of them got to say anything more, the gangway was dropped into the bridge with a loud bang. Mullroy couldn't stop the shout that escaped his mouth, and Murtogg stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the gangway. A thick layer of dust mixed together with the mist, and the cold grew even worse.

The coldness reached its climax when they could see a boot covered foot step out on the gangway, soon followed by another. With heavy, hard steps that made the wood creek and bounce underneath the sudden weight echoed through the entire port. Murtogg took a few steps backwards, and Mullroy shivered in fear.

At first the man who came walking down the gangway was just a shadow against the black hull, but when he started to go towards them and lift his dark head to face them they both stared with opened mouths.

"Mull…"

"Not now, Murtogg!"

It was so cold, and the man seemed to release the icy air within his body. A sudden breeze made his long, dark hair fly all about his face. A long, almost black coat flapped after his heavy steps and it clinked from his belt for every movement.

Soon he stood right in front of Murtogg and looked him in the eye. Murtogg could barely see the man's eyes, and both he and Mullroy shuddered when the man opened his mouth and said with a cold, surprisingly hoarse voice, "I'm here to visit Mrs Turner."


	2. Cold

**Oh, whatever! Couldn't resist - here's the second chapter, mates! (Wind in the sails)**

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Elizabeth woke suddenly, her eyes popping wide-open, and nearly blinded by the soft light of the candle next to her bed. She blinked frantically, trying to see anything at all. At first she couldn't think clearly, still in a sleeping mode, but after a couple of minutes she started to wake up properly.

She slowly sat up in the big bed, felt the sheets daub around her legs and her nightgown fall heavily against her chest. Her hair was all in a mess, falling in stripes all about her face. Even if she was now awake, she was in a cold sweat and her entire body was shaking. She frowned, wondering why she had waked up. And why was she in such a mess? Except for those times she had been sick, she had always slept peacefully and still. She could fall asleep and wake up in exactly the same position the very next day.

So what was this all about? She tried to remember anything at all from a possible nightmare, but nothing came to mind. The room was all quiet and dark, except for the glowing candle beside her. No voices or movements from the servants in the house could be heard.

It was night in the Governors residence, and Elizabeth should be asleep.

So why wasn't she?

She started to freeze, and instinctively she put the blankets away when she saw that the place next to her was empty. Her husband's half long, curly brown hair didn't cover the pillow and his left leg didn't rest on the blanket.

To her own surprise she didn't get scared, not even before she remembered that he had told her the day before that he would probably be late. He was still at the forge, working with that sword that never wanted to be done. She sighed, tried to relax but started to shiver even more.

With a deep breath she got out of the bed, put her arms around herself and looked at the curtains that covered the big window.

Something told her to go over there; something wanted her to draw back the curtains. A small, quiet voice inside her head whispered to her. A voice we never can explain, but still it's there.

So she followed the voice, and meanwhile she stepped over to the window she shivered even more.

_William, why are you not here now?_ she thought, suddenly scared for the voice and the fact that she was alone in the room. Sometimes she could wake up after terrible nightmares, crying or screaming or just terrified. Will had held her through it all, dried her tears and whispered calmly to her. They seldom spoke those nights, and Elizabeth appreciated that he never asked her anything. She knew that he didn't have to, he did already know. Ever since that horrible day, when Elizabeth left the Black Pearl with William and the crew, she could just drift away where William could never follow. She could just stare straight out into the air in front of her.

She had killed a man. A pirate, that's true, but even so a man. A good man.

When she came to think about it, she and Will seldom spoke at all. They told each other good morning, good night and asked how they were. Sometimes they said 'I love you', but nothing more. The dinners were always occupied by her father and all the friends that he invited. The newly married pair just understood each other in a way where they didn't need the words. But she missed the tender looks, the smiles and the free conversations. It was like Will stepped aside, not to be in her way and make her sad. He told her that he was going to work late and begged her not to wait for him. And Elizabeth didn't say anything, just tried not to think about anything at all.

Elizabeth stopped just a meter from the window, shivering like never before. Her breathing was heavy and she almost found it hard to get any air. She didn't know if it was because of her thoughts or the voice inside her head, but the pain grew inside of her. She swallowed and tried not to cry. She didn't want to cry.

_William, why are you not here now?_

She took a deep breath, lifted her arms and separated the long and heavy curtains. Through the thick glass she could see the harbour completely covered by a mist, and when she moved closer to the pane she could feel a terrible cold hit her face. She stared at the city down below, but she could barely see a thing.

Elizabeth lifted her hand to the handle, and she watched it like it was someone else that controlled her body. She held her breath as she opened the window, and the terribly icy midnight air made its way into the room. She panted, let go of the handle and took two steps backwards. The mist followed the air, through the window and down the floor. Elizabeth shuddered as she felt it stroke her feet.

Slowly it found its way up her legs, underneath her night-gown. She froze into the floor, with her arms around herself. She closed her eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.

Suddenly she felt a slight touch against her cheek. It didn't feel like the wind, or the shivers.

It was like someone was touching her, caressing her with light fingertips. It was so familiar, so much like…

She opened her eyes and almost lost her breath. "Jack!"

She reached for her dressing gown, hastened to get it on her and rushed over to the door. She gripped the door handle and pressed it down with such a power that she almost flew out of her room out in the hallway. She panted, scared and zealous at the same time. She started to run through the long corridors, searched with her eyes after the stairs. It was like she didn't recognize her own home anymore, and the way to the staircase seemed to never end.

She ran past the Governors bedroom, his office and all the guestrooms. The flames of the still burning candles swung back and forth when she passed them. When she almost reached the end of the corridor one of the servants, Mary, looked out from one of the guestrooms and shouted after her matron, "Mrs. Turner!"

But Elizabeth didn't notice. She just ran and ran, and she thought that she would never stop. All she could think about was the small hope that Jack was still alive, and she knew that if he were he would be here this night.

She closed her eyes for just a second and pictured her face so close to the pirate captain aboard the Pearl. The deck was empty; all the men in the crew had left the condemned ship. The heart pounded so hard inside her chest, it almost left its place. She didn't want to do this. She could feel how the words tasted so badly in her mouth, how the lies ate her up from inside.

He was a good man. She was thankful for his return. But she didn't want to leave him like this, and she was sorry. Sorrier than he could ever imagined.

Elizabeth looked at the floor in front of her, ran as fast as she could. She tried not to slow down, even if she still wasn't truly awake.

She remembered the time that she had spent on the Pearl, so free she had been. All the manners and the etiquette were totally blown away. She could just walk around in a pair of breeches and a shirt, not feeling awkward or embarrassed at all. The men didn't expect her to be anything special and there were no women to look down on her.

And Jack, the captain and the most respected man on the ship, had shown her the same respect just as if they were a real gentleman meeting a lady.

She finally reached the stairs, took a deep breath and was just about to take the first step when she stopped.

_But he lied. Jack told me that William had been taken into Davy Jones's crew, and he didn't have anything to do with it. _

_Yes, but he returned to Black Pearl when we were attacked by the Kraken._

_He left us._

_But he came back!_

She shook her head and started to run down the stairs, but the thoughts caught her up even when she moved. And now it was her reason; who was she about to meet in the middle of the night, exactly? Was it her husband? No. Was it a girl friend in need? No.

She was out to meet Captain Jack Sparrow, the man who had been dead for several months and she hadn't even been married to him. He was just another man in her life, a man who became a good and loyal friend to both her and her husband. She had never felt anything for him, nothing else than some kind of symmetrical friendship.

She slowed down, taking short steps as she tried to focus on her mind. What was she doing? Why did she run through the hallway in the middle of the night, scared and hopeful that the pirate would be standing right at her doorstep? She was completely insane if she thought that…

But the feeling, and the voice. Something was about to happen this cold and misty night, and the feeling we all know but can't explain told her that Jack was on his way. Right now, in the dark at the streets of Port Royal. Her hometown since she was twelve, and this feeling – whatever it was – told her that Jack was looking for her.

She got to the bottom of the stairs, bit her lip and hasted her steps to the door in front of her. She put her hand on the handle and was just about to open, when she heard steps behind her.

"Madame, is something wrong?" Elizabeth stopped in one move and looked back over her shoulder. Mary stood on the last step of the stairs, with her hands tied above her apron and her eyes looking worried at her housemother. Elizabeth didn't speak, not knowing what to say. She was so mixed up by the memories, emotions and thoughts that the question seemed too hard to answer.

Mary saw how Elizabeth trembled with her hand at the handle, and she hurried towards the young woman to see if she was all right. It was unique that Mrs. Turner didn't sleep at night.

"Are you not feeling well, Madame?" she asked, and put a light hand on Elizabeth's arm.

Elizabeth shook her head, and suddenly she was close to tears. She blinked and looked back at the handle, let go of it. "No, I'm fine, she whispered in one breath. I just… I thought someone was at the door."

"Well, if there was anybody outside I would have looked after them, I can assure you Madame," Mary said with a calming voice. "You should go to bed now, before the Governor or Master William sees you like this. And you need some sleep, you look terribly tired, Madame!"

Elizabeth didn't answer this time either; she just looked at the handle and thought about what she would do next. So easy it was just to open the door, rush out in the fog and down the streets to see if he was there. Maybe she could…

What? What could she do? She was a married woman, running around in her nightdress and searching for a man she killed four months ago? What was she thinking? Jack meant nothing to her, and even if he did he was dead. She was just tired, that's all. She needed to sleep; thoughts of Captain Jack Sparrow just made her confused and sick.

Sleep and wait for Will. That was her life.

"Madame?" Mary softly shook Elizabeth's arm, and Elizabeth looked at her servant. She took a deep breath and nodded slowly.

"Yes, I guess I need some sleep," she said in a low voice. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

She let herself be led upstairs by the maid, and Mary whispered quiet words to calm the still shivering Elizabeth. But Elizabeth didn't hear her; the only thing that she heard was her own thoughts and the conflict she felt inside.


	3. Work

William blinked in the light of the fire. He lifted his free hand to dry the sweat away from his forehead with his sleeve. He puffed, grabbed the tongs and carried the sword over to the bench. He let it down with a high slam and took a deep breath while he stretched his back.

He was so tired, it was late and he wanted to just pack up the stuff and leave. But the sword had to be finished in the morn, and it wasn't so much more to do.

He looked at the door. He would have taken a break, if it wasn't so cold outside. The fire in the forge made the coldness to stay out, and even if it was arctic right outside the door Will didn't even notice.

He decided to pause for just a couple of minutes, he had been working four hours straight and his entire body protested. He sat down the chair next beside the bench and rested his head in his hands. He hated working this late, even if he found the job quite amusing. He could create and do what he was skilled for, without anybody complaining of him.

The Governor had suggested some of his money to him and Elizabeth, but Will had refused. He wanted to provide his own family with his own hands, and both Elizabeth and the Governor had not begged him to give up his wish. Instead Weatherby had offered him a job as a captain, and Will had not told him an answer yet.

He was insecure. These latest months together with Elizabeth had been wonderful. Finally they were married and could love each other without any obstacles. No more wild, crazy adventures with pirates or angry commodores, no more looks.

Well, their life turned to normal. But none of them were normal, they both wanted adventures and wild hardships. As married in the town they just went to fine parties and such.

And the pirates. Well, they had totally ended. No more Black Pearl sailing away with them, no more Jack Sparrow forcing them into dangers bigger than life. His best friend was lost and gone forever, but even if Will missed him, Elizabeth mourned the pirate captain even more.

Will didn't want to press her; he didn't want her to not like him anymore. Even if she did love him, he knew that if he should make just a mistake she would fall apart. But he wanted her to talk, tell him about what she felt. Jack had meant much to them both, but Elizabeth had left him. It wasn't her real intent, Will knew that. But she blamed herself, and Will wanted her to cry it all out. Whatever it meant for his part, he wanted her to be happy.

She tried not to show it, but she was so frail. He could see it in her eyes, sometimes they were like glass. Looking far beyond the horizon.

Was there any idea to get this fancy job if they wouldn't make it anyway?

Will shook his head and sat up. He didn't like to leave her alone; he wanted to be there for her if she needed him. He decided not to wonder more about these things, and to continue with his work. The sooner he made the sword, the sooner he could return home.

He got on his feet and grabbed the tongs to proceed, when he felt a terrible cold down the floor. He frowned and looked at the door. How come the cold found its way in now?

He put the tongs down and walked over to the door, kneed and held his hand near the spring. The icy air gushed in and made his fingers go numb. He pulled his hand away, staring at the spring. All of a sudden he saw some mist press itself in under the door. He rose without taking his eyes away from it. His toes froze in his thin leather shoes, and he felt the coldness tickle on the back of his neck.

This wasn't any ordinary cold. He got surprised when he shivered, and he moved closer to the fire. It did barely help.

"I have a bad feeling about this," he murmured to the tongs at the bench. He bit his lip and threw a look at the unfinished sword. Maybe he should go home to Elizabeth…

He knew he was silly. It was just some weather changes, nothing to worry about. But he couldn't help feeling suspicious. He looked at his tools and smiled.

"Well, Elizabeth should be fine," he said. "I have to finish this tonight, or else I'll get…"

Suddenly he heard footsteps just outside his door. He snatched and stared at it. The sound was heavy and hard against the stones. He grabbed the hammer and held it above his shoulder, ready to defend himself. But the steps just kept on, slow and weighty, passing his door. Will took a deep breath to calm down. William, for Christ sake! It's just a beggar or something. Don't be so silly!

He let go of the hammer, left it on the bench and went to the window. It was like someone else was steering him when he opened the shutter and leaned out the window opening. But he immediately returned to his body when he felt the terrible cold and saw the men just a couple of metres from the forge.

"What the…?"

ooo

Mullroy stared straight ahead, perfectly aware of the man behind them. Murtogg stayed close to his companion, both to feel secure and keep the worst of the cold off.

No one had said a word since they'd left the port. The both marines walked with straight backs and didn't dare to move. The coldness was unbearable, not to mention scary. The man seemed to spread it as he walked on, and the mist seemed to gather around them as they walked towards the Governor's house.

It was a couple of minutes since they left the harbour, and Murtogg couldn't ignore the curiosity. It had grown stronger than the fear, and he gathered the courage to lean even closer to Mullroy and whisper, "I recognize him."

Mullroy took a deep breath, blinked and gave his partner an angry look. "It's Jack Sparrow," he hissed. "The pirate!"

"Jack Sparrow?" Murtogg said a little bit louder, and Mullroy hushed him like crazy.

"Shut up! He can hear us!" Murtogg looked over his shoulder. Mullroy grabbed his arm and shook it. "Cut it out!"

"But wasn't it Jack Sparrow that we almost caught…"

"Yes it was! Can you please shut up now?"

Behind them Jack watched their motley conversation, but he didn't listen. His thoughts were somewhere completely else, a place where he kept the memory of the wife to his best friend. He presumed that they were married now. He had disappeared, sunken into the deep seas, and there was no reason for them to wait any longer. He could imagine her now, always smiling with rosy cheeks and a big belly full of all those bloody beasts that marked Elizabeth as William's.

He looked down in the ground. What was he thinking? He wasn't here to blame Will for marrying his own fiancé. It was his and Elizabeth's choice right from the beginning, and Jack shouldn't tell them how wrong they were. He had just been a person with a non-speaking part, making their marriage more than obvious.

He suddenly abrupt himself in his thoughts, and looked to the right. There was a worn out door in thick wood, and out from the building came the smell of smoke and iron. Under the door he could see the worm and bright light of the fire, and he looked above it.

Yes, they just passed the forge of Port Royal. Infamous for their good swords and weapons that were all needed in all the fancy ceremonies that were held to all those pansy-dressed men with all those damn wigs.

Then he thought about the light he saw under the door. William must be working, but really this late? Was he leaving his wife at home at the evenings, just to work? Well, if Jack knew the young laddie right, he wanted to feed the ones of his own. He could imagine that the Governor wanted to give him money, or at least a new job. Well, William was just too good a man to spend his life powdering his wig. And had too good hair, too.

Jack looked forward, feeling the heat of the forge disappear behind him. Maybe someday he would meet William again, and then he would ask for a swordfight. The boy knew how to handle his work, and Jack could never forget the first day they met.

But he guessed that that day would not come for a long time.

He felt kind of relieved. William was at the forge, which meant that Elizabeth was alone at the Governor's residence. Then he wouldn't have to fight with his good old friend, just have a little chat with his bonnie lass.


	4. Heap

Elizabeth felt uncomfortable where she sat in the bed. Mary had lit two more candles, but the soft flames didn't leave out the freezing wind. She froze and didn't want to sit underneath the heavy sheets.

Mary had left her after promising that she would watch the door the entire night, and that she would look to Elizabeth as often as she could. Elizabeth sighed, finally alone. She hadn't asked for those promises, but she had to admit that it felt a little bit better knowing that the door was under supervision.

So now she only needed to wait for Will, hopefully sleep a bit. She had to admit she was terribly tired. So she buried herself underneath the blanket, put her sleepy head down on the pillow and closed her eyes.

I hope Will comes home soon, she thought and pulled her arms around herself to get warm. She didn't know what to do when he arrived, but she just wanted him to be there. Maybe he wasn't anyone to talk to, but he was her husband. They shared this big, cold and empty bed better when they both were there.

She couldn't help the smile appear in her face. Even if she and Will didn't speak so much anymore, they sure knew how to prove their love. She had known William Turner since they were kids and played down the harbour, but she had never thought that he was so passionate. The few times they'd made love, she had enjoyed it. No, she had loved it.

But – there's always a 'but' – William never touched her if she didn't made the first move. She found it kind of strange; she had always heard complaining from other women that their husbands were too eager in bed. About Will, Elizabeth could only say the opposite. She felt trapped in a relationship where her own husband didn't show any will to "do anything". She appreciated that he showed her respect, but she felt alone and empty inside when he never touched her. He didn't even caress her cheeks or whisper in her ears. He only smiled at her, and then left her alone.

She opened her eyes, the smile had disappeared. No, she was silly. She only imagined these stupid thoughts, William did touch her. He wanted to, he was just shy. Sure they were married, but well… It was his personality. It would get better in time.

She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes once more. Yes, everything would get better. Everything would be just fine.

The coldness found its way under the blankets, and she started to shiver again. The feeling attacked her for a second time. What if Jack was out there?

"Nothing," she whispered, "He means nothing to me. Meant."

She bit her lip, felt the pain catch up with her. She pinched her eyelids harder together, but she couldn't stop the picture of the kiss she'd shared with the captain show up in her mind. She couldn't remember the kiss, it had seemed so unreal. She was all upset by the plan in her head and not to be bothered by his sad eyes right before it happened, but when she had felt his lips against her own she had lost all sense of reason. All she had known was his body so near to hers. Every movement he had done she followed like she had been his mirror, or even as they had been one soul.

But that feeling did just last a couple of seconds. The same moment he had hit the mast she had got to her senses, and remembered her mission. She had let her hand slip down his arm, caught his hand and locked him to his destiny. But it hadn't been easy.

When they let go she had to give him an angry look and show how unmoved she was by the fact that she had just condemned Black Pearl's captain to death. She had to tell him that it was the only way and that she wasn't sorry just to convince both him and herself that his life didn't mean anything to her.

But when they had stood on the deck just a couple of days before, they had made perfectly clear to each other that they both had some worth in the other one's eyes. She had memorized every bit of his touch and the look of his eyes when they'd been standing close to each other, and she would never forget how close they were to kissing each other – without any plans of killing Jack. It had been for real, the feeling of getting close and connecting in that way she had never done with anyone before.

She sighed and changed her position, resting on her right arm. Why did she try to convince herself that Jack was anything special? And how many times had she asked herself that question this long and unbearable night? One too many, she supposed and took a deep breath in a lame try to get rid of the shivering. She knew that the feeling wouldn't leave her until Will got home, or maybe not before the sun was about to rise…

It felt like the bitter cold stung her feet, and she couldn't stand it. She sat up and got out of the bed, tired of all the thoughts. She wanted something to make her immune, something that kept her mind away from the feeling. She reached for her dressing gown for the second time that night and went out in the corridor. Now, with a slower march, she walked on through the hallway but stopped outside her father's office. She only hesitated for two seconds before she opened the door and stepped in, very careful about closing the door firmly behind her.

She made sure that Mary didn't run after her before she locked the entry and went over to her father's desk. She opened the last drawer and pulled out a beautiful bottle with the most expensive whiskey there was to buy at the market. The Governor used to offer some drops of it to his closest friends, colleagues or finest guests. Even for the richest man in the town it was very fine and not so easy to get.

But Elizabeth didn't mind. She knew that she wouldn't get away with it if she tried to drink from the cupboard down the living room. Mary would tell Will, and Will would get all worried. Better she drank her father's best whiskey and blamed it on some poor servant. She put the bottle on the desk and opened the cabinet behind her, got out a glass and poured a good bit into it. She trembled when she lifted the drink to her lips, and tried to feel the warmth spread through her body when she swallowed the strong liquid. But it just stung and burned in her throat and the room started to swing around her as she felt it land in her stomach. But not as much as it had when she and Jack had been stuck on that island so long ago. She frowned, grabbed the bottle's neck and went over to the window. The town seemed different and foreign in the mist and all the coldness that the window glass let through. She shuddered, and when the memories started to return in her mind she took another gulp of the strong whiskey. But it didn't warm her; she only shuddered even more and felt how the burn spread in her throat and chest.

And she couldn't get rid of the memory of Jack on the island. The fire, the late evening and all the rum they both had drunk. For her part it wasn't much, but it was the first time she had ever tasted rum. Before, she had only got to taste her father's wine or some milder whiskey. And not in those big, concentrated doses. She had kept herself on her feet, but she had been slightly drunk. For some reason it had been a relief, drinking and running around the fire together with a pirate.

Well, Jack had been drunk. Not slightly, he had been _really_ drunk. Thankful for that, she had looked in his eyes and noticed that he would never have the power to do her any harm. She had almost felt sorry for him, lying there in the sand and sleeping so sweet and safe next to the fire. She had noticed that he sometimes whispered in his sleep, unclear words about all the adventures he had made. And if she asked him something, he had answered.

_"Jack? What would you say if I burned all your rum?"_

_"Rum…"_

_"Yes, what if I burned it all up?" She had crept close to him and looked down at his sleeping face. She had felt a sort of happiness, or more like a satisfaction, when she had discovered that he wouldn't wake up even if she screamed next to his ear._

_"If you burn…" he had mumbled, without making a move._

_"Because that is what I'm going to do now," she had whispered. "You know, throw it all in a big heap, take some wood from the fire and mix it with the palms. A really… big…" She had become silent in that moment, looked at his sound asleep face. "… heap."_

Elizabeth almost jumped when she saw a big flash of lightning strike the dark, grey sky above Port Royal. The sharp sound came just a couple of seconds later, and she felt the coldness grow even bigger inside of her.

That one might have hit some building, she thought and stepped away from the window. Back at the table she put the bottle down and took another gulp of the whiskey, and really tried to think about the liquid as something good and tasty. She needed it to get any sleep at all, and not to think about the feeling that had almost disappeared by now.

Then suddenly, in the middle of her gulp, she heard a hard knock at the door downstairs. No, it was more than one – two, three, four hard beats met the door before the silent returned even worse than before. The stillness seemed to last an eternity, and Elizabeth didn't dare to move where she stood holding the glass to her lips.

Please tell me I just imagined, she thought and gripped her glass so hard that her knuckles went all white. She sharpened her ears and hoped that she wouldn't hear a thing.

But soon there it was again, the same hard knocking echoing through the house. Although this time, whomever it was that stood outside the door, it kept knocking even longer and harder.

And then she could hear Mary's light footsteps coming closer through the hallway. Elizabeth just stood there, scared and unsure about what she should do next. A big part of her wanted to throw the door up and scream to the maid not to open, just return to her work and then go to bed. But another part was growing even stronger, the curiosity was way too strong to resist. She needed to know who it was at their doorstep. But Mary mustn't get to know about the visit Elizabeth had made in her father's office. The only thing that Elizabeth could do was easily to stay put, right beside her father's desk and the glass in her hand and wait for Mary to open the door downstairs.

ooo

Will gathered his tools and locked them in the cabinet he had been given by the Governor right after his and Elizabeth's marriage. The gift made him sleep well at night, even if he knew that there was money to buy new tools if they were stolen now. He locked it with quick fingers and then brigaded the fire. He glanced at the unfinished sword, but he had no longer any reason to stay. After what he had seen outside the forge, he just wanted to go home and look after Elizabeth. He wanted to see if she was okay, that she slept all safe in her father's house.

So he put his gown on him and went out into the night, after locking the door. The air was thick and cold, it felt hard to breathe and hurt all way down to his lungs as he breathed in. He tried to hurry, but he didn't get enough air to run. He slowed down and looked around as he started to walk instead.

Somewhere a voice told him that he was being silly, that the sight of the pirate captain was just imagination and Elizabeth was alright. It also told him to return and continue until the work was done.

But he couldn't help listening to the other, stronger voice, telling him that Elizabeth needed him right in this very moment. If he saw Jack Sparrow or not didn't matter, the only thing he needed to know was that Elizabeth was in pain. And William couldn't live with that certainty.

He crossed the market place and looked up, just to see the Governor's residence risen up just a couple of quarters away. He walked faster and tried not to think about the pain in his chest.


End file.
